


The Truth Serum And The Aphrodisiac

by orphan_account



Series: Spies Are For Sluttery [1]
Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Blow Jobs, M/M, Restraints, Truth Serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-28 15:16:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20428064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Curt is injected with an experimental truth serum, he relies on Owen to help him out.





	1. Curt: The Lie

Tight restraints are around my wrists and ankles, and I struggle uselessly against the table. I fix my eyes against the ceiling, and consider calling for help, until I take in the wrapped walls. Soundproofing. There's a small table to my left, on which sit a collection of metal implements. I twist my head as much as the straps will allow, which isn't far. There's a balcony above me, and, behind that, a door. A viewing platform of some kind. _And I'm the show._

I freeze as a voice talks behind me. "Well well well. Mr Mega," it says. It's a man's voice, with a badly disguised accent. German? French? My shoulders drop, and I try, once more, to break free. The voice tuts. "Stop that, Mr Mega. We do not want you to hurt yourself."

I exhale. The straps around my ankles feel like they're easy to break, but I lie still for now. _Let's do this. _"Who?" I ask, and give the ceiling a winning smile.

The voice chuckles. "Mr Mega. You know who we are as easily as we know how you are. I ask you not to insult my intelligence."

My hand twitches. I've been tied down in possibly the most undignified position, with my legs parted, and it's hard to fight the urge to break out. _Owen will find me soon, _I tell myself. _He was on the other side of the building when we were separated, but I've been gone too long to have gotten lost. He'll come looking for me. I just have to keep this guy talking._

"That's nice, and all, but who are you?" I ask. "We haven't had the pleasure of an introduction."

My captor laughs, but another voice chips in, over a microphone. "Enough games. Get on with it." The voice is smooth, feminine, and I pause.

"I didn't know we had a lady present," I say, my voice taking on the lilt it does for flirting.

"You don't," the woman says. "Maxim, get on with it," she repeats, and there are footsteps behind my head. Someone descending metal steps. I badly want to turn my head, but I can't see that far. My heart is trying to tug me upwards, off the table, but all I can do is wait as Maxim approaches.

He's wearing a long white coat, which is fairly common among torturers, masquerading as professionals. The profession has an air of pseudo-science about it, as it's not proven to get results. _Not from me, anyway. _But these guys don't know that yet, and so I'm just going to have to suffer through it. I breathe quickly, and brace myself, but Maxim wants to monologue.

"Now. Before we do this, Mr Mega, I want you to know this is nothing personal." I scoff, and avoid eye contact. "This is merely business," he continues, and selects something from the table. _Shit. _I try to roll away, but the restraints are holding fast.

"Yeah. I can see that," I say, and keep my eye on the syringe he's preparing. _You should really look away, _I warn myself, but I can't seem to. He fills it from a beaker full of pink liquid, and my eyes widen.

"That's-"

"Oh, no," Maxim chuckles. "This is not the truth serum you were instructed to steal." My eyes widen, again, at this man who knows too much, and he smirks as he explains. "Fortunately for you, Mega, we decided to give your friend a free sample."

_Owen._

I shudder. "What-?"

He doesn't waste any time in stabbing me with it, and I tense. It's cold, horrifically so, and I can feel the liquid seeping up my arm. I let out a strangled gasp, and Maxim coos at me as he strokes my forehead. I jerk away, and my head snaps back, hard, against the metal table. I hiss.

"Easy, Mega," he smiles. "Like I said, we have no reason to hurt you. It's not every day that agencies send us two test subjects for our serums." His hand is on my head, possessive, and I groan.

"What have you done to him?" I say, trying to keep my voice steady. A strange burning sensation is beginning in my feet, and the man laughs.

"Don't worry, my dear Mega. You'll be seeing him again, very soon." With that, he runs a hand down my torso, and rests the other on my knee. I shudder when he touches my leg, and he smirks, then leans in close. "I do wish I could have you for myself, but from my understanding, it seems Owen Carvour will be suited for the job."

"The fuck does _that _mean?"

He snickers in response. "Goodbye, Mega. Enjoy the... Side effects."

I glare at him from the side of my eye, and he walks away.


	2. Owen: The Truth

Twenty four hours ago, Curt and I were in a car, driven by myself. It's not that I don't trust Curt to drive, but I certainly don't trust Curt to drive, if you know what I'm saying.

_Get on with it, _a voice barks, and I frown. When did I get in this chair?

Hey, when did I get in this chair?

_Shut up, and keep talking._

How rude. I was already talking. _You _interrupted me. I merely asked a simple question, and-

-_I told you we should have questioned the other one_.

_No. Americans are even worse. Trust me._

Sigh. _How do we get him to skip the boring stuff?_

_Quiet, Sergio. Give him another dose._

_ "_Ow- hey!" I snap to my senses, and tug hard against the ropes that bind me. They hold fast, and I grunt. There's a needle in my arm, and my head feels like it's splitting. _I'm going under._

"May I remind you that torturing prisoners is illegal under the terms of the Geneva Conv-"

The needle leaves my arm. "This isn't torture, and you're not a prisoner," someone hisses. "Now shut up."

I bark out a laugh. "Oh! Is this your _truth serum_? You really think that's going to work? That's adorable."

Someone slaps my face.

"_Sergio!"_ Another chastises, and I grin. Cheek smarting, I flex my arms behind my back.

"Charming, gentlemen- most charming," I say. "But I regret to inform you that truth serums aren't real."

_They smirk, and someone kneels down before me. He strokes his hands down my leg, and look me in the eyes. Hypnosis? I close my eyes, tight, and clench my hands._

_ "_You're a fool if you think that's going to work."

"_You're a fool if you think you can resist."_

I snort. "Fuck you."

_"We don't have time for this."_

_ "Patience, Sergio. We have all the time in the world."_

I lean back against the chair, but I can't seem to keep my mouth shut. "He's right. You're wasting your time." I'm a trained spy, you know. I won't fall for your parlour tricks.

_Oh, won't you, now? It's a terrible shame._

My eyes snap open. "How did you hear my thoughts?"

Laughter. _My dear spy, you were talking aloud._

I shake my head. _Impossible._

_More laughter._

  
I'm not supposed to be the clumsy one.

_No, that's Curt, isn't it?_

  
Curt... Mega. He's just less refined. Better at thinking on his feet. No-

_Good, Mr spy, good._

  
My name is Owen.

_Oh?_

  
Owen Carvour.

_Very _ _good-_

  
And I know that truth serums are complete fantasy.

_We shall see, Mr _ _Carvour_ _. We shall see._

***

I groan, and clutch my head. My pulse feels unnaturally heavy, and I swear I can feel blood pooling in my hands and feet.

_ Curt._ Where is he? I need to find him, I-

I tip forwards off the chair, and collapse onto the floor. I groan, and push myself into a crouch. I rub my wrists reproachfully.

_ I told them everything._

Well, at least we know the rumours are true. _Hansel & Decker_ has created a working truth serum.

In truth, there wasn't much to tell. They already seemed to assume we were here for the serum, and treated this more like a sales pitch. The leader, Maxim, pinned me against the chair, and whispered something in my ear. What was it?

_"Tell your agencies we are willing to sell."_

I shudder, and force myself to my feet. I'm already putting together a report for the agency. _It's no different to interrogating someone under the influence of drugs or alcohol. You're tied down, questioned, and it's easy enough to resist._

Except, I didn't resist. Sure, it's nothing world-ending, but I told them... Personal stuff. Stuff about me and Curt. Blood rushes to my face. I limp out of the room, confused that it's been left unguarded.

_They can't have fled. _I may be disorientated, but I know a trap when I see one. They want something else from me, and I'm not going to give it to them. _I'm going to grab Curt and leave. _Unless that's what the want.

I stop dead in my tracks, and duck my head as I listen to the corridor. It's lifeless, which is odd for a facility like this. It makes it easy to hear the whimpering, though.

I run towards the sound.

***

The door has been left open, which is instantly suspicious. There's a window, presumably a one-way mirror, on this side of the room, and, on the wall opposite, another. I'll have to walk down a flight of steps to reach Curt, at which point, they could lock the door behind me, and seal me in.

I purse my lips. The sound that Curt's making is so pitiful that it pushes me into recklessness. _Damnit__, Curt._

I walk down the steps, waiting for the inevitable sound of a door closing behind me. When it doesn't, I'm even more on-edge.

There's a grunt. "Owen?"

I move closer, and see that he's only been tied down by leather straps. Curt's fully capable of getting out of those himself, and- with the door left open so plainly here- it's clear they wanted him to escape, too. _Or me to find him. _They untied me, so perhaps this was what they wanted.

_You're playing right into their hands._

I ignore it, and unbuckle his wrists first, then his head. He sits up, and goes to undo his feet, but it takes a while. His hands are trembling.

I place a hand on his back. "Are you OK?"

He flinches when I touch him, but nods. He doesn't meet my eyes.

"Are you sure? Did they torture you?" I rub his back slowly.

He shakes his head. "Did they torture _you_?"

I hesitate. "Not as such."

He exhales. "A serum, right?"

I nod, and offer him a hand. He takes it, and leaps off the bench.

"They knew stuff they shouldn't. Like my name. That we were looking for the serum."

We ascend the steps. The door is still open. I breathe out. "Well, I guess you were right in the car. Truth serum's not impossible." I pause, and glance back at the empty room. The mirror hangs there, obscenely obvious.

  
"Yeah?" He laughs, shakily. Something's wrong. "They're definitely watching us," he says, and nods to the mirror.

"I know," I say, and place my hand on his back. "Let's just get out of here."

As we walk through the corridor, he makes a strange noise. A barely controlled whimper. I whirl around. He doesn't look hurt, and there are no visible injuries. I frown.

"What's wrong, love?"

He grimaces. "They injected me with something," he admits. "But it wasn't truth serum."

"I knew it," I shake my head, ushering him faster down the corridor, but he resists. "It's a pain serum, right? Fear? Poison? Hansel and Decker are clearly using this facility to develop interrogation aids, so-"

He comes to a stop, and catches his breath. "Not quite."

"What-?" I tug on his arm, but he's completely frozen now.

"It's getting worse," he says, his breathing unusually heavy. Before I can work out what's wrong, he pushes me into a closet.

And kisses me.


	3. Curt: The Whole Truth

"Curt, what the hell?" Owen wrestles me off him, and I press myself flat against the wall. It's cool against my skin, and I use it like ice. I'm burning up.

"Sorry," I say, but the sound is drowned out by the ocean in my ears. I can't prevent the shuddering now. I tremble like an addict, and Owen is my drug.

"Tell me what's wrong." He sounds scared, and I meet his eyes, unable to control the rise and fall of my chest. "Jesus, Curt-" he takes my hands, and pushes me down onto a chair. "Your pupils are dilated."

I exhale. "That's the least of my worries."

He frowns, and places two fingers on my wrist. "Your heart rate is insane, Curt. Any guesses as to what that serum was?"

My laugh is a deranged cackle. "Oh yeah. I know exactly what it was."

He frowns, and places a hand on my forehead. "You're warm-"

"- You're too much of a gentleman to look, Owen, but I think it's pretty clear it was an Aphrodisiac," I say, uncomfortably.

He halts in surprise, then laughs nervously. "What?" He glances down. "Oh."

I sigh. "It's getting really hard to think straight, so if you could not make a big deal out of this, that'd be great."

His mouth twitches.

"Double entendre not intended," I whisper, and he smirks. "It's not funny," I murmur.

"I know," he says, and strokes my face softly. My breath catches. My body really doesn't need the encouragement.

"What are you-?"

He kisses me briefly. "Let's make this fast, so you can actually walk, and we can get out of here." His tone is casual, light, but he pushes his fingers through my hair in the way that only he can.

I kiss him gently, and my hands find his waist. "That sounds like a practical solution," I manage.

"Exactly," he says, and kisses me deeper. "Just two spies helping each other out." He kisses down my neck, and I grab his shirt, keening into him. He laughs throatily, and pushes his knee between my thighs. "D'you remember," he whispers, as he unbuttons my pants, "When we first made love?"

My breathing is ragged. "Y-yes," I say. "At least..." I rest my hands against the small of his back. "There's not much blood going to my brain right now, but I think I remember it." He smiles against my neck, and bites me, hard. "Ohh... That's going to leave a mark," I murmur.

He grins. "Then you'll have to think of a creative explanation."

"Uhh..." I manage a nod.

He unzips my jeans, and pulls them off completely. He gets down on his knees, and, suddenly, the reference to our first time makes more sense. I exhale. "Owen..."

"Shh," he smiles, suddenly shy, and guides my hands to his head. "I'm going to return the favour," he whispers, and pulls my boxers down and off in one swift motion. I tug his hair, and he kisses my tip slowly, slowly, teasing me forwards. I groan. That beautiful tongue laps at my slit, and I breathe deeply, trying to keep it together.

He gets faster, and pushes the palm of his hand against my balls. His breathing gets more noticeable, and I ruffle his hair slowly. "Fuck. Owen, so good..."

He takes more of me in his mouth, and rolls his tongue around the base, then explores, gradually, up and down my length. My breath catches. He fondles me as he goes, and makes contented noises. The vibrations from his mouth around me make me moan, and I place my legs over his shoulders. He chokes a little, but continues in earnest.

"So hot, Owen, so, so hot," I say, caressing his face. He seems spurred on by this, and deep-throats me.

I whimper. "I'm- close."

He sucks harder, and I moan. "Fuck-" he teases my prick with his teeth, and I shake with anticipation. "Owen-"

I come, and he swallows, deeply. I get the impression that he's never done that before, but I don't ask. Barely have the energy to ask.

"Fuck..." I lie back in the chair, and he squeezes my hand.

"We need to go."

I nod, eyes still closed. "In a moment."

He dresses me without a word, and gently kisses the top of my head. "You've run away after being _tortured_ before, I'm sure you can manage this."

I groan. "You're going to make me _run_?"

He grins wickedly. "Like I said... I've seen you sprinting with a bullet wound before."

"Yeah, but I didn't realise you'd got shot... And you're so sexy, it should be a war crime," I say, eyeing his ass.

He tries to hide his smile. "You were just under the influence of a serum," he says.

"Meant every word," I hum.

"Come on, stand up."

"Well, you sure know how to treat a date," I grunt, and rise obediently.

His eyes twinkle. "You haven't even bought me a drink yet."

I place my fingers against his chin, and stroke his lips teasingly. I whisper into his ear. "What, that wasn't enough for you?"

He goes pink.

*

  
There's still no-one to be seen in the corridors, but we're running anyway. "Are you sure you can run?" Owen asks, suddenly concerned.

"Are you sure _you _can run?" I ask, and he slaps my hand.

"Stop flirting, you bloody horn dog," he says in a stage-whisper, and I chuckle. "Yes," he says, taking my arm for support. "I have remarkable self-control."

"Mm. That truth serum must be wearing off, honey, because _that _is a lie. Just wait 'til we get home, and I'll show you self-control-"

"Curt!"

My laughter echoes off the walls. OK, so maybe the side effects haven't quite worn off yet.

Still jogging to keep pace with me, Owen grips my arm. "I didn't know you were circumcised," he says in a low voice, and now it's my turn to blush.

"It's quite common in America," I say.

"No need to be so curt, love." Owen teases, and I roll my eyes.

"You're the worst."

He blows me a kiss.


	4. Owen: Nothing But The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My fav girl Barbara provides some much-needed WLW and MLM solidarity.

I hiss in pain, as a needle is pushed into my arm for the second time today. "Bloody hell, Miss Lavernor-!"

"Sorry. And you can call me Barb; everyone else does." She keeps her eyes on the syringe as she takes a blood sample. "These are going to help us work out exactly what's going on at Hans & Decker."

"These?" Curt snaps to attention, and Barb smiles.

"Yep, and hopefully an antidote," she says. "I'll take yours in a moment."

He meets my eyes, and mouths '_help.'_

I clear my throat. "Hey, Barb. Curt wasn't hit with the same thing I was."

'_No!' _Curt mimes behind her back.

"Hmm?" She asks, as she finishes with my arm. "What was he given?" With this, she turns to Curt, who tilts his face to the side and glowers at me. Then, he addresses Barbara.

"We're not sure," he lies. I bite back a smile. "But I had different side effects." His voice breaks, and he looks away.

"What kind of side effects?" She asks, already gearing up a different needle.

"Uh..." He shifts uncomfortably in his chair. "You know, it probably wasn't important?"

She laughs. "Are you scared of the needle, Curt?"

He winces. "Something like that."

"Don't worry. I'll be gentle." Barb dabs delicately at his arm with a cotton wool bud, and he looks to me.

_'I hate_ _you_,' he mouths over her head, and I suppress laughter.

"Check his pulse, Barb," I hint. He gives me another exasperated look, and she places two fingers on his neck. He winces.

"What's this?" She brushes the bruise that's forming there, and Curt hesitates.

"Battle wound," he shrugs. "Got punched at the facility. No big deal."

She purses her lips, clearly unconvinced, and removes her hand after a moment. "Your heart rate _is_ quite fast," she concedes, and Curt doesn't seem to know which of us to glare at. He settles on me.

"That could just be because of the _needle," _He fidgets, and she holds his arm steady.

"Even so," she says, "I'll get someone to give you boys a checkup while I analyse these."

"Haah-" he closes his eyes, and his free arm shakes as she stabs the other.

"Sh sh shhh," she whispers, and strokes his inner elbow. He un-tenses, and sighs deeply. I feel like I'm watching something strangely intimate, and look away.

"You did really well," she says, and Curt grunts.

When I turn back, Barb is labelling the vials of blood, and she gives me a wide smile. "I'll be back," she says.

Curt wheels on me the second she leaves the room.

"You'd better have a really good reason for acting like an idiot," he huffs.

I place a hand on the back of my head. "Well, if the side effects haven't worn off yet, you'll need an antidote," I chuckle. He shakes his head.

"I can't believe you," he grunts, and grips his arm tighter. "A few hours ago you didn't even _believe_ in truth serums."

I smile serenely. "Well." That is all.

Curt makes a face.

I chuckle, and drag my chair closer to his. There's a silence, and then-

"I'm glad we were assigned to do this mission together," I nudge him.

"Me too," he says, begrudgingly.

"I wouldn't want anyone else to see you all love-potioned-up," I smirk.

"Owen..." He goes pink. "I _really _don't need any encouragement right now."

"You're right," I chuckle. "Barb doesn't, either."

"What?" He gets pinker.

I scuff my feet against the ground. "You haven't noticed?"

He places his head back against the chair. "I guess not." He presses a hand to the side of his neck, and considers me. I can tell he's thinking about the love bite.

Another moment passes, and I can hear his breathing getting more laboured. He glances at the door, then grabs the front of my shirt. "You said you had good self control," he gasps, "How?"

I stare him down. "Um. Think calming thoughts. Things that turn you off. Like genocide, or women."

He gives me a look. "You don't know if they turn me off," he says, dismissively.

I chuckle. "I don't need a truth serum to tell when you're lying." I pat his hand.

He pulls away, and groans in frustration. "God, Owen. Don't touch me right now," he says, in barely more than a whisper.

"Don't worry. I'm sure your charming lady friend will be back soon with an antidote."

He closes his eyes. "You jealous?"

I grip the side of my seat. "No."

He smirks. "You're jealous."

I scoff. "Curt, it takes more than a labcoat-wearing-"

He closes the gap between us, and kisses me, deeply. I return it, and press my hands into the curves of his torso. He breaks away, and rests his forehead against mine, before sitting back down, uncomfortably.

I laugh as he adjusts himself in his seat.

"Did that help?" I ask.

"No," he admits, "It was fun, though. We should do it again sometime."

"Outrageous," I whisper.

"Hey, this time, you started it," he smirks. "That was on you."

I'm still thinking of a retort, when another scientist walks in. This one is wearing a stethoscope, and carries a first aid kit. She seats herself on the stool before Curt, and picks up the stethoscope.

"Agent Mega," she says, and he nods.

"Doctor Peti," he shifts his weight, and places one leg over the other. He meets my eyes, and I shake with silent laughter.

"Lift your shirt, please."

***

After doctor Peti has checked us both over (and declared that Curt's temperature is worryingly high), Barb comes in to inform us she's "synthesised an experimental antidote to whatever shit is in Curt's system."

"Yippee, just what I want, more experimental shit," Curt sighs. "But sure. Go for it." She withdraws yet another syringe, and he grimaces. "Really?"

She smiles. "Sorry, Curt."

Once it's been administered, he relaxes into the chair, and says he's feeling much better, but Barb insists he wait it off for a moment. "After all, we don't know if my antidote has any side effects," she laughs like a drain, and coughs. "Owen, could you come with me for a moment, please?"

I glance at Curt, who shrugs. "Sure," I say, and follow her out of the room. She leads me down the corridor.

"I suppose we'll have to fast track some sort of antidote for you, now," she says, and I wave it away.

"The physiological effects aren't quite as severe. Besides, I'm quite confident that the truth serum has worn off."

"Really?" She squints. "Been telling any lies?"

I freeze. "Um-"

She laughs. "I'm messing with you."

I smile uncertainly, and then something occurs to me. "Hey- I thought you dealt with the electronics, the gadgetry, that sort of thing. How come you're in charge of all this stuff, too?"

  
She shrugs. "I worked my way up. You learn how to do all sorts, working in the CIA."

I lean back against the wall. "Huh."

"And you learn to observe a lot, too," she says. She clasps her hands together, and frowns. "Like the fact that the serum Curt took was meant to target the erogenous zones."

I feign innocence. "What?"

"Arousal," she raises an eyebrow, refusing to say more.

"I'm not sure what you mean," I say.

She scoffs. "Oh, come on, Owen, you can trust me. I know a hickey when I see one," she says with a smirk.

I loop my thumbs into my front pocket. "So who gave it to him-?"

"_Owen_. I'm trying to say I'm happy for you guys."

I exhale. Do I deny it? It could be a trap. "But... The law," I whisper, and she smirks.

"Since when do I care? Everything spies do is illegal."

We share a smile.

"How did you work it out? Was I really that obvious?"

She taps her nose. "Only to the trained eye."

"No- really, though. I could be putting his job at risk." _His life._

She pounds her fist into her palm. "Eisenhower will have to go through me first."

I begin to make my way back to Curt, when she calls me back.

"Hey-"

I turn. She twists a Biro between her fingers.

"Look after him," she says, voice softer.

  
I smile. "I always do."


End file.
